Legacy of Violence
by Cinlat
Summary: Life is complicated, no matter how black and white one chooses to see the galaxy. However, when children are added into the mix, the possible outcomes of a situation multiply exponentially. These are a recording of the valuable lessons that two seemingly simplistic career men learn about raising families in the middle of a war. *Sequel to Our Own
1. Comeuppance

**Summary:** Life is complicated, no matter how black and white one chooses to see the galaxy. However, when children are added into the mix, the possible outcomes of a situation multiply exponentially. These are a recording of a valuable lessons that two seemingly simplistic career men learn about raising families in the middle of a war.

 **Author's Note:** I've received a lot of requests to bring Jorgan's triplets back, and to be honest, I've been toying with the idea of trying my hand with the Wrath/Quinn romance and somehow this happened.

 **Comeuppance**

* * *

 **Dromund Kaas  
** **Residence of Darth Lyesh Hassir**

 _In light of our close relations, I thought it prudent to compile an infant contingency report._

 _Bearing a child will temporarily sap your strength, creating a need for increased defenses. Once born, the infant will require constant guard against your many enemies. I also recommend Broonmark and Pierce be kept at a distance._

 _With our connections, entry into the Empire's top military academies shouldn't be an issue. If Force sensitive, the child will continue your legacy at the Sith Academy._

 _Merely something to consider, my lord. Should the matter arise, I will gladly nurture our offspring—without sacrificing work performance, of course._

Quinn sighed as he read over Lyesh's shoulder. "Yes, Malavai?" He heard the smirk in her voice and cursed the way that it lightened his heart. After his attempt on her life, Quinn tried to remain grateful that she spared his at all times. He took nothing for granted, and acknowledged that, despite the years they'd cohabitated peacefully, she could renege on that mercy at any moment. With each passing year, his resolve faltered, and he became more comfortable at her side.

"If I'd known you planned to keep that ghastly missive, I would have attempted to make it more romantic." Lyesh leaned back in her chair to look up at him. Even with the outlandish angle - the top of her head pressed against his stomach - she still managed an impressive eyebrow raise.

"Malavai," Lyesh crooned, and he rolled his eyes. "You haven't a romantic bone in that terribly alluring body of yours." She pushed back from the desk, forcing Quinn to step lively to avoid having his toes rolled over. He considered arguing Lyesh's point, but feared that he would lose. In truth, his strength had always been firmly in the literal, rather than the poetic.

The sound of squealing saved Quinn from the need to defend his romantic prowess. Pounding feet echoed down the hallway, followed shortly by a muttered curse from of one of the house slaves. The thunderous ruckus grew in strength, then faded as the perpetrators flew past. Quinn shared a look with his wife, and Lyesh's smirk grew. "Five . . . Four . . . Three . . . Two . . . One _."_ Shattering glass reverberated from the foyer. Both Sith and major held their breaths, heads tilted to the side while listening for the inevitable wail.

When it came, Quinn sighed and strode from the room. Keeping his steps light, he marched with purpose towards the whimpering of his youngest daughter. As he rounded the corner, the source of the clattering came into view. A vase, one that had been in Lyesh's family for generations, lay in pieces on the floor. Alia sat in the midst of the shards sniffling, and he scooped her in his arms before turning a stern glare on her sisters. Three pairs of clear, blue eyes glared back at him. "With me, all of you."

"I'll see to the mess, Major Quinn," one of the house staff said with bowed head. Malavai nodded as he passed, leading the troublesome youths to their mother.

Opening the door, Quinn shifted Alia to his hip and motioned for the rest to file inside. It was a credit to Lyesh's skill that they obeyed. Each of their daughters had shown propensity for the Force, effectively outmatching him. Should they choose, Quinn would be wholly at the mercy of his four daughters.

Once they were all inside, Quinn shut the door and motioned towards Lyesh's desk. "Positions, ladies." Alia clung to his uniform, wrinkling the buttons, while the rest took up their standard spot before their mother. These meetings became more commonplace the older the girls grew, and the rug nearly bore the imprints of their shoes from how often they stood there.

Lyesh looked over her daughters, then examined the toddler in Quinn's arms. When she appeared satisfied that no serious injury had occurred, her bright, red eyes turned back to their children. "Ninla, explain."

While only seven years old, Ninla took more after Malavai. She kept her temper in check most days, and preferred clever ploys to outright brutality. It helped in evading her older sisters, though she did not seem to feel overly protective of the younger. Quinn wondered if that would change with age, or if she would eventually isolate herself from everyone.

Quinn remained silent as the only raven haired girl of the brood stepped forward. Lyesh was a powerful Sith lord and the former Emperor's Wrath. Disciplining the four, unruly girls fell squarely on her shoulders. She taught them how to hone their anger and pain into a force to rival those of their enemies. While Quinn detested seeing any one of his children suffer, Lyesh was of the mindset that children of a prominent political figure were never without rivals. Malavai was hard pressed to disagree, and kept his grievances to himself.

Ninla squared her shoulders, looking Lyesh directly in the eyes. "Ygrin and Zheth were dueling, and Alia wanted to join them. I tried to tell her that it was a bad idea, but toddlers seldom listen to reason." Lyesh cast a rueful glance at her husband, and Quinn felt the corners of his mouth twitch. Malavai prided himself on his attention to detail and ability to present a logical, stoic demeanor no matter the situation. However, his children often found a way to circumvent his defenses, and he glimpsed himself in the exasperated child.

"When they refused her," Ninla continued, as if delivering a battlefield briefing. "Alia attempted to throw a vase, but it proved too heavy, and she dropped it on her foot." The toddler in question squirmed in Quinn's arms when Lyesh's gaze fell on her again. Alia's eyes grew wet, and she poked a tiny, pink tongue out at her traitorous sister. Malavai inhaled a slow, deep breath and nearly resorted to biting the inside of his cheek in order to appear unmoved.

Lyesh sighed and regarded the two oldest girls. "Ygrin and Zheth, you will see me tonight for personal training. For now, tell the kitchen staff that we are ready to take our lunch." The girls began to protest, but Lyesh cut them off with a sharp glare. "Ninla, fetch Vette." A brief light entered Ninla's eyes with the prospect of retrieving the Twi'lek, but she soon quashed the emotion and nodded studiously.

When the door shut, Malavai shifted Alia so that he could sit in the chair across from his wife with their youngest daughter perched in his lap. "I often envy your ability to manage them," he admitted while removing the squirmy toddler's shoe. After careful examination, he was satisfied that no permanent damage had been done to her foot. When he looked up again, Lyesh was studying him. She did so often, more when he interacted with one of their children, though he'd never asked why.

"Ygrin's application for the Sith Academy should have arrived by now," Lyesh said without warning. Quinn felt his spine go rigid at the prospect of sending her so far from home. After a few moments of silence, Lyesh steepled long fingers under her chin. "Do you think she is ready?"

Korriban had been destroyed early on in the war with Zakuul—Quinn refused to refer to it as an Eternal Empire—and he would be lying if he denied how his stomach grew queasy at the thought of sending his daughters to train in those ruins. While most children were snatched from their families the moment Force sensitivity was discovered, there were some who held enough power to postpone this inevitability. Lyesh held such sway, and they had decided at Ygrin's birth that should any of their children prove eligible, they would enter the Academy at the age of thirteen. Now that the moment drew nigh, it felt far too soon.

Of all their children, Ygrin was the strongest and most brutal. If any stood a chance at survival, it would be her. Granted, that was before Korriban had become a target for a military might the likes of which they have never seen. Arcann had raised the stakes dramatically.

Quinn came out of his own thoughts with the knowledge that Lyesh still waited for his reply. "I do not relish the thought of sending her away," he finally admitted.

"You doubt that I will ensure my daughter is properly prepared for her trials?" Lyesh raised a thin, red brow. "Her failure would not only lead to the needless sacrifice of one of my offspring, but it would bring shame upon my position in the council. I'll not allow either of those things to happen."

Alia's head snapped around as the door to the study opened again. She'd learned to distinguish those closest to her through the Force only a short while ago, and her renewed glee at each recognition was fascinating to behold. "There's my girl," the blue Twi'lek cooed, and Alia slid from her father's lap to race into Vette's arms. "Nap time?" She asked with a smirk.

"Indeed, she has taken to throwing furniture at her sisters," Lyesh responded to her old friend. Quinn kept his back to the door, still pondering his wife's words about shame and dishonor.

"Sith are so weird," Vette chuckled. "Anything else while I'm here?" The Twi'lek had helped raise all of their children, and each girl had a unique bond with the former slave. Quinn did not harbor any misconceptions that Vette's role in their existence had anything to do with loyalty to him. She had developed a relationship with Lyesh. One that bordered on absurd when, even though freed, Lyesh let her do as she pleased in the public eye.

Lyesh's red eyes fell on Quinn again, and he felt her prod gently at his mind. He could not hide his unease from his wife, nor had he tried. Malavai had vowed to be completely open after the incident with the droids where he shamed himself by being coerced into betraying her. He had yet to go back on that promise.

"No, but good luck with that one," Lyesh answered with a nod towards Alia, all the while her attention remained focused on Quinn. "She's in a testy mood today."

"You don't scare me," Vette mocked while tickling Alia's belly. The toddler's peals of laughter echoed long after they departed.

Silence soon took them over again, and Quinn's thoughts turned inward. He often wondered how Sith loved. Most were a greedy, selfish lot consumed only by the desire for power. Lyesh was no different, yet she'd somehow found room for him in her heart, then expanded it to encompass four, head strong little girls. He was certain that the risk of losing one of her daughters meant more than the shame of failure, though she could never show it. Not even to him.

"You have doubts?" Lyesh prodded more gently than Quinn expected. He nodded, crossing his legs at the knee and staring at the hem of his pant leg. There was a scuff on his boot that he'd need to see to forthwith, but it was merely a distraction from thoughts he did not wish to entertain.

Yes, he had doubts. But, of what, exactly? It took only a moment to reach his answer, and the conclusion was surprisingly liberating. "Not about your ability, or theirs. But, the galaxy is a much different place from when you took your trials. I—"

"You worry," Lyesh finished for him.

Arcann had destroyed or enslaved most civilized worlds, and the appearance of this new Alliance had only made things worse. "Of course, I do," Malavai all but snorted. "I'm their father."

"Ygrin _will_ be ready, and she _will_ make us proud." Quinn studied his wife's face, wishing that he had even a fraction of her ability to see through lies. She sounded so confident in her assessment of Ygrin's abilities that he sorely wanted to share in it.

Another knock at the door halted their conversation again. Quinn swallowed his discontent and waited to see who needed Lyesh this time. It wouldn't be Vette; the Twi'lek hadn't knocked on a door since he'd met her.

"Ygrin?" Lyesh asked in a stern tone. Quinn angled himself to better glimpse their oldest striding purposefully across the room. Her fiery hair stuck out at odd ends in the latest fashion of the girls at her school. He'd been livid when she came home with her long braid reduced to what consisted of a man's hairstyle. She'd met his anger with her own, and the pillars supporting their dwelling trembled with the force of her rage until Lyesh intervened.

The girl stood by Malavai's chair and looked her mother in the eye. Without a moment's hesitation, she handed a burner messaging device to him. "This was delivered to our door with explicit instructions for the Wrath's eyes alone." Lyesh lifted an eyebrow at her daughter's chosen form of rebelliousness, opting to deliver it into Quinn's hands instead of hers directly. Without waiting to be dismissed, Ygrin spun on her heel and marched from the room, the tassels on her tunic flailing wildly with the force of her steps.

Quinn stood to follow, intending to demand that Ygrin return and show her mother due respect, but Lyesh held up a hand. "Leave her. I'll deal with her insolence this evening."

"You're sure?" Quinn asked, his gaze still set on the door.

"She will come to regret her actions," Lyesh assured him. "Ygrin is a girl who fancies herself a warrior. There will come a time soon when she realizes what a sheltered life she's lived, and youth will give way to the wish that she'd headed our warnings."

Quinn sank slowly back into his chair, device still in hand. "As you say, my lord."

"Well, what it is?" Lyesh nodded towards the message, and Quinn forced himself to focus on one task at a time.

Curiosity made Quinn slide his thumb over the sensor, and it was little surprise that it activated at his touch. "It is a summons," Malavai answered at last. The missive had been lightly encoded with a cypher the Empire hadn't used in years. "Empress Acina wishes to meet with us."

Lyesh held out a hand, and Quinn relinquished the device. She read over it quickly before crushing it in her palms. It was a reminder of the strength his wife possessed, should he ever be fool enough to forget again. With a feral smile, Lyesh gazed out the window towards Acina's chosen seat of power. "Then, we shouldn't keep her waiting."

 **Odessen  
** **War Council**

"I don't like it." Aric sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. "After that cock up on Dromund Kaas, do we really trust these people?" He looked around the table at the gathered war council. Nahir sat across from him, staring intently at the maps scattered before her. The room was cramped, and the table small enough for Aric to nudge his lifemate's leg with his foot. She glanced up, then at the powerhouse the Alliance had gathered.

Lana remained silent for the most part, and Theron ran his hands through his hair. "Acina wasn't at fault on that one."

The Sith Empress had called the Outlander, a Jedi named Vranu, to Dromund Kaas to discuss a treaty. While there, Vranu and Acina had vanished into the wilds after their shuttle had been shot down, and it took nearly ten hours to locate them again.

"Theron has a point," Master Vranu replied in a smooth, baritone voice. "The former chancellor, Saresh, orchestrated that little coup, not the Empire." He was a brown skinned Zabrak with an impressive crown of horns, intricate tribal tattoos, and bright, yellow eyes. He took his position as the commander of the Alliance seriously, and Aric respected the man's opinion.

Vranu had accepted Havoc Squad's aid after they went AWOL from the Republic, then allowed Aric to bring his family to Odessen. He'd also counseled Jorgan while he recovered from the death of his squad. There had never been any judgment, only firm action. They'd cleaned weapons together in silence until Aric was ready to talk, then Vranu listened, remaining silent until Jorgan had no more words left in him. Only then, did the Jedi offer advice, and it was to remind him of why they fought, and what his men had sacrificed their lives for.

"So far, the Empire has been the only major galactic power to voluntarily ally with us," Lana added. Aric still wasn't sure how he felt about the woman. She wasn't like any of the Sith he'd put down, but she was no saint either. When he mentioned as much, Nahir pointed out that none of them had survived this long blameless. His children had, and that's why Aric was here. Those three kii needed a safer galaxy to grow in, and he'd do his damnedest to provide it for them.

Senya leaned forward to hold up her datapad. "This information claims that Acina's emissary used to be the Emperor's Wrath. Was that a title that Valkorion gave her?"

"It was," Lana admitted. "The former owner is an associate of Master Vranu, he aided in a few missions, and Darth Lyesh was given the position after Lord Scourge's defection." Aric had always considered the Jedi to be an open and honest man. However, there was no mistaking the way Vranu tensed when Lana brought up his past. His time under the Emperor's control was something the Jedi refused to speak of.

Senya nodded, then looked up from her screen to Theron. "It states that she was an executioner." Her attention shifted to Lana next. "And that this man who travels with her tried to kill her once."

"Yeah, she was bad news. Probably still is," Theron agreed, casting a side glance at Lana, one that she completely ignored. "But, that was a long time ago. Now, she's a mother of four, and she married that man, and—Damn it, Lana. What is so funny?"

Aric, along with everyone around the table, stared at the normally subdued Sith as she covered her mouth in an uncharacteristic fit of laughter. Lana composed herself, then smoothed her tunic. "Yes, well, I can hardly think of a more suitable punishment, can you?" When the room remained quiet, Lana huffed. "All four of their children are Force-sensitive."

"Kriff," Theron swore, then broke into a grin himself. "And Quinn's file says that he isn't." Lana nodded, her smile creeping back slowly. "Oh, now I just feel sorry for the man."

Aric briefly entertained the idea of even one of his kii being Force-sensitive, then quickly shied away from the thought. Khina and Amo would destroy the gardens on Coruscant in an attempt to outdo one another. Only Sisa would be even remotely responsible with that kind of power.

"So, we are bringing four, unstable Force users to Odessen?" Nahir asked. She was the only one not entertained by the notion of Captain Quinn's plight.

"Five, if you count the Wrath herself," Theron answered, then winced when Lana smacked his arm.

Vranu pushed his chair back slowly, rising to an impressive height that belied the amount of muscle on his lean frame. "Darth Lyesh has been chosen by Empress Acina, our ally, to be her mouthpiece on Odessen. I do not believe she would send anyone who would possibly undermine a truce so carefully constructed." The room gave the Jedi their complete attention. Aric had to admit, Vranu had a presence about him that went beyond the space he took up. When he spoke, it was because the words needed to be said, not simply for the sake of hearing his own voice. If Master Vranu was confident in their pact with Acina, then Jorgan would back the Jedi up. He'd keep an eye on their newest members of course, but off the books.

"It is late, and Lyesh and her family are already on the way. There is naught else to do but accept them when they arrive, agreed?" A chorus of approval echoed around the gathered individuals. "Good, now, some of you have families of your own to get back to. I call this meeting to a close. Seconded?"

"Here," Theron chimed, hand raised quickly before anyone could bring anything else to the table. The crowd drifted away slowly, though, Aric noted that Vranu stayed behind.

When Jorgan and Nahir reached their room, he keyed the door open and reveled in the silence. It was well past 23:00, and from the sound of it, the kii were asleep. Aric lowered his voice and wrapped his arms around Nahir's waist. "I'm going to grab a beer. You want one?" While he wouldn't call himself an alcoholic, he'd had at least some form of a drink every night before bed since that disaster at the Spire. It was the only way he could sleep, and even then, it didn't keep the nightmares at bay.

Nahir nodded, her magenta eyes catching in the glow from the holoterminal in the corner of the main room. "Let me check on the kids first. I'll meet you in there." She rubbed her cheek against Aric's, and he caught the promise of something more than a nightcap in her scent.

"Don't take too long," Jorgan growled playfully, then headed to their small kitchen. The apartment they shared on base probably could have fit inside the one they'd owned on Coruscant. It consisted of a sitting room, closet of a kitchen, and technically, one bedroom. Through, with a little elbow grease and a lot of ingenuity, he and Adan had managed to cut the refresher in half, and wall off enough of his and Nahir's room to make a suitable sanctuary for the triplets. After all, he and Nahir only needed a bed and one dresser, the rest could go to the kids. It worked in a temporary sense. Aric had no intention of dealing with three teenagers in such a tight space.

Lighting had never been a problem for Aric before. His eyes adjusted easily to the dark, so he avoided using electricity whenever possible in an effort to save it for those families who couldn't get by without. Cathar night vision wasn't perfect, though, a fact Aric discovered when his shoe slid in something squishy spilled across the floor. "What the—"

Aric flipped on the light and stood motionless at the sight before him. A white powdery substance coated the counters, the sink was piled high with food caked dishes, and . . . how had he not noticed that stench before?

Aric was still staring at the state of their once tidy kitchen when Nahir choked out a squeak behind him. He glanced over his shoulder, then motioned wordlessly to their surroundings. Nahir shrugged. "Well, Khina _did_ say she had dinner covered."

"Oh, it's covered alright," Aric snarled. " _Everything_ is covered."

Nahir squeezed past, stepping lightly over the goo he'd stomped through, and opened the refrigerator door. She pulled out a couple of beers and tossed one to Aric. "We could leave it for the kii to clean in the morning." Nahir waved her bottle at him, her voice hopeful.

Aric leveled her with a stern glare. "You know I'll be thinking about this all night."

Nahir popped the top on her drink and tipped the bottle back. When she had half of its contents down her throat, Nahir found one of the few clean placed to set the glass. "I'll grab the towels," she sighed. "But they owe me big time."

Aric grabbed her hip as she moved passed and planted a kiss on her forehead. "I will too."

Nahir flashed a mischievous grin, then vanished to get the cleaning supplies while Aric started on the dishes. The pile shifted, splashing him with the briny water he hadn't noticed beneath. He took a deep breath to steady his temper before growling, "I'll make _sure_ they pay up, too."


	2. Rude Awakening

**Rude Awakening**

* * *

 **Odessen**

Aric woke to the sensation of being watched, making the fur on the back of his neck stand on end. After a single breath, he knew who it was, and he squeezed his eyes tighter. "Dad," Amo whispered. Aric paid careful attention to his breathing, keeping it steady to maintain his ruse. "Dad," Amo tried again, then followed it with a sharp poke between Aric's ribs. "Come on, I know you're awake."

Despite keeping half of his face buried in the pillow, Aric slid one eye open in an attempt to glare at his son. Two pairs of reflective eyes stared back at him, and Aric slid his gaze towards the chrono on the side table: 05:30. He and Nahir had crawled into bed only two hours ago.

"See, I told you he was awake," Amo boasted to Sisa, who offered an apologetic shrug. It occurred to Aric that only two of his kii were present, and he worried about where the third was.

"What the—" Nahir's surprised exclamation was followed by her weight smashing into Aric's back hard enough to drive a grunt from his lungs. At least now he knew where Khina was.

Thanks to the unsettling stares of their children, Aric and Nahir were now fully awake. "What," he ground out, considering the idea of locking them all up until they were legal adults. At least then, he'd get a decent night's sleep, and they'd be the galaxy's problem.

"Khina and I had a project in the kitchen. . . ." Amo shared a glance with Sisa when Aric growled.

"I saw." Jorgan pushed himself upright and ran a hand down his face. Khina moved around to stand beside her siblings, and Nahir flopped onto her back with a groan. Not the way he'd anticipated starting his day off.

Khina bounced on her toes with an excitement that Aric didn't understand. "Yeah? It was supposed to be a surprise. What did you think?"

Aric gaped at his daughter, but before he could scold her for the mess they'd left the night before, Nahir put a hand on his arm. In Aric's sleep-addled state, it took him longer than it should have to see the matching expressions of glee on his children's faces. Somehow, Nahir managed to sound chipper when she spoke. "Khina, what _exactly_ were you doing last night?" She squeezed Aric's arm when he gave her a questioning look.

"They didn't see it," Khina whispered, and Amo's face split into a wide grin. Sisa alone looked apprehensive, but an air of excitement still clung to her. "Come on, dad." Khina grabbed Aric's fingers and pulled until they popped.

"Alright, alright." Aric wrestled his hand free and shooed the kids out. "Let me get some clothes on."

The kii scurried from the room, chattering excitedly amongst themselves. Once the door shut, Aric flopped back onto the bed. "Think we can get in ten more minutes of sleep?"

Nahir had already risen, opening drawers to get ready for the day. "Not since Hylo taught them how to pick locks."

Aric growled again and shoved to his feet. "Remind me to thank her for that." Technically, he and Nahir had the morning off until Acina's new envoy arrived. Then, the Jorgan family got to play honor guard for a Sith executioner and her horde of tiny Force-users. The Cathar pulled on a pair of sweatpants and loose fitting shirt to match Nahir's: standard relaxation clothing on Odessen since they could be purchased in bulk. They were a hideous shade of green that didn't compliment anyone, no matter the species or skin tone.

"Come on, Major. Let's see what they've gotten into." Nahir slapped his ass as she walked from the room, and Aric looked longingly back at their bed before following. He slumped through the sitting room towards the kitchen only to have his momentum halted when Nahir blocked his path. Her barely contained laughter worried him.

"You should sit down," Nahir commented, her voice shaking with amusement. Taking Aric's shoulders in hand, she turned him towards one of the chairs. He dropped onto the cushion with a wary glare. "Oh, you should close your eyes too."

There was no point in arguing, at least, not until his first cup of caf. Aric complied with a resigned sigh and shut his eyes. Every hair on his body stood on end as the rest of his senses tried to make up for the lack of visual input. His nose twitched at the bitter smell of burned food, and Aric fought to keep his eyes closed. Nahir snickered to his left, and Amo bumped into the table right in front of him.

"Okay, ba'e, open your eyes," Sisa commanded in the same no-nonsense way that she approached everything in life. Out of the three, she was the only one who showed any proclivity for preserving Cathar custom, and would use traditional names from time to time. Khina and Amo were only interested in becoming stronger warriors, but Sisa—she _remembered_.

When Aric peeked through his lids, his jaw went slack. There, on the table at his knees, was a small, slightly burned, spongy substance with a mess of yellow goo—the same he'd stepped in the night before—slathered all over it. "Happy birthday," Nahir chuckled from behind her hands.

"Ah." It was all Aric could think to say, though mentally he thanked Nahir for shutting his mouth before he made a fool of himself by scolding the kids earlier. "It's a cake, right?"

A look passed between the kii, and Khina put her hands on her hips. "Isn't that what it looks like?"

Aric rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, just making sure." He offered a sly grin. "You know, since your mother and I didn't get to bed until a couple of hours ago. Someone left the kitchen a mess."

Sisa cleared her throat. "That was my fault." Aric felt his brows raise. "It took longer to get the supplies than I thought, which pushed Khina and Amo behind schedule for preparing the cake. By the time they finished, it was already past curfew." She kicked her feet and glared at the floor. "I thought it would be better to leave the mess until morning than to ruin the surprise."

It was impossible to stay angry in the face of such innocent frustrations. Aric opened his arms, and all three kii slammed into his simultaneously. Nahir grinned openly behind them, arms crossed over her chest. Aric released his children, and Khina bounded back to the table to fetch the plate. "Now, let's eat."

Realization dawned on Aric as he looked at the charred corners of the dessert and bit back a cringe. Nahir burst into laughter and held out a fork. Aric took it, worked his jaw back and forth, then took a deep breath. "Right. Looks—tasty."

 **The Phantom  
** **En route to Odessen**

Quinn looked on his daughters as they lined against the wall for their pre-bedtime inspection. He'd already sent Zeth back to brush her teeth again, and Ygrin was complaining of a headache. None of them had been exposed to long space-flights since Lyesh's new position required her presence on Dromund Kaas more often than not. Some discomfort accompanying their trip was to be expected.

After he was satisfied with the lack of plaque on Leth's teeth and had administered a pain relief tab to Ygrin, Quinn pronounced them ready for bed. "Vette, if you would join us?" The girls took that as their cue to scramble into their bunks while the Twi'lek sauntered in with her holopad.

"I've got this, maybe you can convince Lyesh to get some rest too." Vette settled in a chair evenly positioned between the girls' beds and activated the holo. The image revealed a large Nexu from a children's book series that Alia loved and her older sisters tolerated. _Hello Nexu_ was neither entertaining, nor educational, so far as Quinn could ascertain, but it was one of the few things the four girls agreed on.

Quinn stepped out of the room as Vette's story began and took a deep breath. As much as he loved his daughters, they had a tendency to be overwhelming, especially when they were uncomfortable and cranky. He still hadn't decided at what age he should expect better behavior, but it seemed to get older every year.

Quinn directed his steps towards the briefing room where he knew Lyesh would be. They were heading into unknown, possibly hostile territory, so she would be analyzing every detail available. Acina's assurances that other families resided on the secret base did little to assuage Quinn's irritation at having less information than he preferred about the location. Not to mention, no end goal existed except ensuring that the Empire's needs were met and their presence had been felt. Though the Empress did not say as much, Quinn got the impression that she intended to have a powerful ally when the war ended so she could set her sights on the Republic. Lyesh intended convince the Jedi in charge that the Empire had the galaxy's best interests at heart, no matter how long it took.

"Perhaps a break, my love?" Quinn leaned over Lyesh's shoulders to see yet another personnel report, this one of a Mirialan smuggler who'd once aided the Republic during the sacking of Coruscant.

"It really is a diverse alliance," she commented, ignoring Quinn's attempts to pull her attention away from work. She'd slept no more than a couple of hours at a time since leaving Dromund Kaas. He changed tactics and began massaging her shoulders, digging his thumbs into the tight knots that developed after hours hunched over a desk. Lyesh leaned into his touch with a sigh, then smirked. "You are trying to distract me."

Quinn allowed himself a small, mildly victorious smile. "It's working."

"It is, but I haven't the time for play things now." Lyesh sat up, pulling from his grasp. "There are a lot of people already settled into this alliance, we are at a momentary disadvantage."

Knowing how unstoppable Lyesh could be, Quinn opted for joining her at the table instead of luring her away. If he added his eyes to the task, they could finish in half the time. He'd just taken a seat when Vette reappeared. "That's the last one," the Twi'lek remarked as she slumped into a chair across from him. "You know, one of these days, I'm going to make _you_ tell them their bedtime story."

Lyesh offered an endearing smile. "I'm sure your talent far outweighs my own in such matters." Malavai chuckled, then cleared his throat to avoid giving offense. They had been married for more than ten years, and still he feared her wrath. As far as relationships went, Lyesh could not be in a better position. It was what lay ahead that troubled her.

"Vette, you've worked with these people before." Lyesh waved a hand at the scattered datapads before her. Each contained a detailed report on some part of the Alliance, though it was the one with the personality profiles that concerned her the most. "Who are they, and what drives them?"

Vette had only recently returned from a job involving the Alliance and an old colleague. They'd successfully pilfered Arcann's secret vaults aboard an invisible ship. The Twi'lek had been most willing to share her exploits and still mourned the loss of the weapon she'd dubbed _Spewy_. Lyesh had murmured that perhaps Vette had spent too much time hanging around toddlers prior to that particular mission.

The Twi'lek leaned forward and picked one of the devices up. They sat in the conference room aboard the Phantom while the girls slept in the crew quarters. Naturally, none had been pleased with the cramped arrangements. They each had their own room back on Dromund Kaas, and had never been fond of sharing. "It's a pretty even mix of Republic and Imperial people, I'd say." Vette's blue eyes scrolled over the screen. "You know, Jedi, Sith, mercs, smugglers, pirates, droids, and soldiers from both sides."

"And the demographic?" Malavai asked. It was still a new sentiment, but he no longer saw Vette as merely a pet that Lyesh kept around for her own amusement. The Twi'lek had branched out and formed business partnerships off her own. She vanished for weeks at a time, often returning triumphant.

"You mean aliens versus humans?" Malavai nodded, and Vette shrugged. "About as diverse as Nar Shaddaa, I think. I mean, the majority of the war council is human, but the Outlander is a Zabrak. Oh, and there are a couple of Cathar too, you remember Havoc Squad, right?"

Malavai's grip on his datapad tightened, though it was Lyesh who answered. "How could we not? They caused us a lot of trouble on Corellia." She pondered the implications for a moment before continuing. "So, the Outlander has the Republic's best on his side."

"Not anymore," Vette sighed. "Unfortunately, their last mission didn't go so good. Everyone was killed except the commander and one of the soldiers. There _isn't_ a Havoc Squad anymore."

The look that passed between Malavai and Lyesh spoke volumes. If Zakuul could obliterate such seasoned warriors so easily, what were they taking their children into? "I'm glad they didn't get Jorgan," Vette continued. "He's got a wife and three kids. That would have been too tragic to bear."

"Tell us about the others, please," Lyesh insisted.

Malavai scowled at his datapad. He would need to formulate multiple contingency plans in case it looked like their daughters were in mortal danger. While Quinn would give his life for the Empire, he was not willing to offer his children's. That was a decision they should make for themselves when they were older. He intended to see that they got the opportunity.

"Oh, and Cipher Nine's droid is there. She's super creepy." The mention of the Imperial legend gained Quinn's full attention. Lyesh's forehead smoothed in an optimistic gesture, but Vette shook her head. "No, Nine isn't there. Last I heard, the crew split in order to allow him to move throughout the galaxy unhindered. According to Kaliyo, he cut ties and hasn't been heard from in three years."

"Shame," Lyesh remarked, then turned her attention back to the profiles. "Lana I know, and I've read Agent Shan's file. What of these two native Zakuulans? Can they be trusted?"

"Koth, sure," Vette grinned, and Quinn wondered if there was a story there. Not that he planned to ask, it was likely a lude tale that she would share with Lyesh later. "I don't know about Senya. If the rumors are to be believed, she's Vaylin and Arcann's mom. I stayed away from her mostly."

Lyesh set the image of the human male aside in favor of a closer look at the woman. She looked to be in her early fifties, yet in perfect fighting condition. "Such intriguing company our Outlander keeps." Quinn studied his wife, lifting a brow when she caught his eye. She had an idea brewing.

A small shuffle brought everyone around to find Alia standing in the doorway of the conference room. Her stuffed Yozusk hung from one hand, while the other rubbed at her eyes. Malavai pushed away from the table to scoop his daughter up. "You must stay in bed, Alia."

The toddler yawned loudly and nodded, for once, not arguing. Quinn realized that she wasn't completely awake, simply in an unfamiliar place and seeking comfort. He bundled Alia into bed and tucked the blanket around her. She turned away from Quinn and snuggled deeper into its warmth, taking a deep breath before falling asleep again.

When Quinn returned, Vette had her feet propped on the table, fingers interlaced beneath her lekku. "It's cold out here," the Twi'lek commented. "She won't sleep well until she gets used to it."

Lyesh nodded. "It is something they must all learn to endure. They have been lucky so far. The life of a Sith is rarely given to developing roots."

"Yeah, same with a slave." Vette's voice sounded bitter for a moment, then reclaimed its mischievous note when she leaned closer. "Look, I didn't want to say anything while Major Stick-up-His-Ass was around, but Pierce and Broonmark are on Odessen too. I'm sure they'll both be happy to see you."

Quinn paused mid-step, lips pressed into a tight line. He had no desire to see Pierce again. There was far too much history between the three of them. Lyesh had discovered her pregnancy shortly before Malavai's betrayal, but chose to keep it from him. Quinn wondered if that would have changed his approach. Would he have had the courage to tell Baras that he refused to complete his mission? That he could never attempt to destroy the mother of his child?

Lyesh had withheld the news until her clothing no longer fit properly, making the pregnancy impossible to hide. Quinn had lost many a night's sleep over who the father might be given her chosen punishment had been to replace him with Pierce immediately. She'd let Malavai believe that their oldest belonged to the low-born soldier months after Ygrin had been born, only revealing the truth when she decided to forgive him of the crime. Naturally, Pierce had been more than willing to go along with the charade.

Vette's face split into a delighted grin. "I can't wait to see the look on Quinn's face when Peirce walks up. He might burst a vein." Lyesh chuckled lightly.

Quinn lingered a little longer in the shadows of the passageway. Lyesh would be aware of his presence, but he didn't want to surrender his advantage. Malavai would shake Pierce's hand, gobsmacking both the captain and the Twi'lek.

Lyesh stifled a yawn. "I'm off to bed, Vette. See you in a few hours."

"Sure thing, boss." The Twi'lek leaned back in her chair and swiped another datapad.

Lyesh met Malavai in the corridor and motioned for him to follow. "Apologies, my lord, I thought it prudent not to impose on your conversation."

"Of course you did," Lyesh answered with a coy grin. She hooked one finger through Quinn's collar and tugged him along behind her. "I have a new task for you, Malavai." She shut the door with a wave of her hand.

Quinn stood motionless while his wife unbuttoned his collar. No matter what transpired in the past, _he_ was here with Lyesh, not Pierce. She'd chosen _him_ to sire her children and stand by her side. There really was no other victory worth having. "I am yours to command, my lord," Quinn replied as his uniform jacket slid from his shoulders.

With a feral smile, Lyesh pushed him against the wall. "Excellent."

* * *

 **A/N:** the concept of _Hello Nexu_ belongs to damarlegacy.


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